


Standard Interrogation Techniques

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M, big dick sonny carisi, cameo by Fin, canon-typical discussions of violence against women, mens rights activists are trash, rafael barba's emotional support giraffe, redpillers are trash, sorry they don't fuck, the list goes on - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Sonny's got to play into a suspect's misogyny to get a confession. Liv, Amanda, and Rafael watch it all unfold.





	Standard Interrogation Techniques

**Liv:** We got Tanner Michaelson  
**Rafael:** Meet you at the station. 

*

Rafael makes it into the station just a minute behind the squad. Rollins is leading Tanner Michaelson towards interrogation. He's handcuffed and talking loudly about how he doesn't need a lawyer. He didn't do shit, and maybe if Rollins wasn't zombified by feminazis, she'd understand his point. 

"For the last time, shut the fuck up," Rollins says. "Not because you don't wanna incriminate yourself but because I'm tired of listening to you."

Rafael swallows a laugh and walks over to Fin and Liv. "Where'd you find him?"

"Poked his head out for a restaurant opening," Fin says with a snort. "Posted on instagram."

"Now, that's a level of confidence you only get as a cishet white man," Rafael replies. 

Fin grins. "Right?"

"He's been refusing a lawyer since Carisi handed him off to Rollins," Liv says. "He's changing," she says before Rafael can ask. "Michaelson landed a lucky punch, but he's all right otherwise."

"Oh, I do love when serial rapists add a few smaller crimes," Rafael replies, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that Sonny's fine.

"Assaulting an officer's a smaller crime?" Fin asks. "I'll give you resisting arrest, but come on, man."

"If he'd come at Carisi with a weapon, this would be a different conversation, but I've seen the man get hit in the head with a Tonka truck--"

"Once," Liv interrupts.

"And barely flinch. An overgrown frat boy with worse instincts?" Rafael shrugs. "He's fine."

"Sure didn't smell like it," Fin says, then grins at Liv and walks over to his desk.

Rafael cocks his head. "Smell?"

Liv heaves a sigh and throws Fin a quick look. Fin laughs in response. "Give it to you in my office while we watch Rollins with Michaelson," she says. 

Rafael follows, curious but willing to wait for details. If Liv is telling him in her office, it's more private than professional, and he appreciates how willing she is to walk the line between boss and friend for the two of them. "How bad is it?" he asks after he closes the door behind the two of them. "Is Michaelson a devotee to some douchebag cologne I need to worry about smelling in my own house?"

Liv chuckles and shakes her head as she raises the blinds for the window to the interrogation room. "Nothing so dire. After he punched Carisi, Michaelson ran for it, and--"

"And my emotional support giraffe gave chase," Rafael finishes. 

"Right into a stack of trash bags full of all the parts of the animals fancy restaurants throw away."

Rafael sighs. "How bad?"

"One of the bags exploded on contact."

"Christ."

"And your," Liv grins wide, "emotional support giraffe, made four jokes about how 'offal' the smell was." 

Rafael snickers. He can't help it. Something about the way Sonny delivers puns absolutely devastates the part of his brain that usually hates them. "Did you tell me in here so no one would see me laugh at that?"

"Fin and Rollins started to debate who got to pistol whip him first. I was afraid for your safety if they find out you find Sonny's puns charming."

"I am a weak man and grateful for your discretion," Rafael replies. 

He and Liv share a grin before they turn towards the window. Michaelson has switched topics from feminazis to how he doesn't hate women. He hates _bitches_. He is explaining this distinction to Rollins.

"What you gotta understand is that you're probably fine, you know? Like, if you and me had just met somewhere, we'd probably like each other. If you didn't' have all this poison in your brain."

"You're the reason cops used to keep phone books in their desks," Rollins replies, the bland half-smile on her face not wavering. 

"Threat of violence," Rafael says in an faux-worried undertone.

Liv snorts in reply. "Oh, come on, he didn't hear a word she said. A man is talking."

"Let's not be generous," Rafael replies. 

There's a knock on Liv's door, and Sonny pokes his head in, a towel in one hand. "Hey, boss," he says, then grins when he sees Rafael. "Counselor." 

"Come on in," Liv says. 

Sonny steps in and shuts the door behind him. He reaches up behind his neck and scrubs at his wet hair. "Good news, I think I got the smell of pork fat off me. Bad news, my suit's not gonna recover."

"That explains the just-released-from-county look," Liv says with a wave to the sweatpants, tank top, and sneakers Sonny is wearing. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I cleared out my locker last week and took my backup suit to the cleaners. Haven't picked it up yet. I had to bum sweats from the general bin."

"You're fine, Carisi," Liv says with a warm smile. "Though, that eye isn't looking great."

"Haven't looked in a mirror yet," Sonny says. He turns towards Rafael, his smile softening on the edges. "How's it look, Barba?"

It looks like it hurts. It's purpling already and swollen at the edges. Rafael steps over and presses his fingers to Sonny's chin so Sonny turns his face to the light. "Pretty sure the Tonka truck got you worse."

"One time," Liv mutters while Sonny chuckles. 

"Yeah, I got a compress on it right away, so I don't think it'll get much worse." He gives Rafael a reassuring smile, then turns to Liv. "Rollins and I hashed out an interrogation plan on the way back."

"How could she possibly hold a conversation while you smelled like pig fat?" Rafael asks.

"She held her nose and nodded," Sonny replies. "Hey, Lieu, is that a spot on the glass?"

"Oh, it appears so," Liv says with great seriousness.

Sonny leans down and pecks Rafael on the mouth. "Hi."

"Hi."

"And here's another," Liv says over her shoulder.

"Seal this up for us," Rafael says as Sonny ducks in for a second kiss.

"Do my best," Sonny replies. He noses into Rafael's hair for a moment, then steps away. "You want the plan, Lieu?"

Liv turns around and waves him off. "Rollins is the bitch cop, and you're the manly cop?"

Sonny grins and chuckles. "That's why you're the boss." He hangs his towel on the coat rack and then smooths his hair straight back. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, then licks his lips and nods. "All right. I'm going." He pulls his badge from his pocket to clip it to his pants.

"Badge on your waistband," Liv says. "Not front and center, but pretty close."

"My badge is my dick, got it," Sonny replies. He gives Rafael one more quick smile before he leaves. 

Rafael and Liv both turn towards the interrogation window again. Michaelson is _still_ talking. Rollins's 'why do men talk to me' smile hasn't wavered. Rafael and Liv share a quick look when Sonny doesn't walk into the room after a few seconds. When he walks in a half a minute later, they share a second look, but neither of them say anything. When Amanda and Sonny plan an interrogation, it's best to watch and learn. 

"Miss Amanda!" Sonny greets, his accent double-thick as he walks into interrogation, "I want a few minutes. Grab us coffees." He points a finger at Michaelson. "Coffee's not great, but we got cream and sugar. What's your preference?"

"Black," Michaelson says, puffing out his chest.

"Same," Sonny says without looking at Amanda.

Rafael can't help his laugh. "Fuck, he's gonna be wired after this."

"Only because Amanda will pull his from the espresso machine that _mysteriously_ showed up in the break room after you and Carisi disclosed," Liv says.

"There's no mystery. I left a note," Rafael replies. He gives Liv his best high-drama look. "My baby deserves the best."

Liv shakes her head and knocks their shoulders together. "I wish I had cameras to record you saying that."

"Why do you think I say it in here?" Rafael asks, turning back to the window to watch Sonny start his interrogation.

"You all right?" Sonny asks, pulling at the waistband of his sweats. It pulls the back of his sweats up, but the weight of his badge pushes the sweats down in the front. There's a slim bit of skin showing, and Sonny's badge glints hard in the light so Michaelson can't miss it. He gives Michaelson an annoyed look. "I'd rather not be here in sweats, but when I tackled you, I hit a bag of some shit that smelled bad, and I didn't wanna be an asshole."

"Right," Michaelson says, sarcasm hard and badly used, "You're the good cop. I get it."

Sonny laughs and sits down, throwing his feet on the table. He tucks his arms behind his head, the double-flower tattoo on his inner right bicep on display. "I know what it looks like, all right? But, seriously, you did NOT want to smell that. It was fucking foul. Amanda--the one who just left--she made a bunch of puns like it was funny."

"She's gonna make him pay in baby-sitting for that lie," Rafael says. 

"You love having Jesse over," Liv replies.

"That's not the point," Rafael says, and he grins when Liv chuckles.

Amanda walks back into the interrogation room, two disposable cups in hand. She sets them down at the same time, causing splash on both sides.

"Hey!" Sonny yelps, pushing back from the table. Michaelson can't do the same due to being cuffed to the table. "C'mon!" Sonny says a few decibels below a yell.

"You'll live," Amanda replies, her tone so hard and annoyed that Rafael reels back from it.

"I never get used to her sounding so pissed," Liv tells him. "I'm pretty fucking proud it's something I only heard when she started."

"As you should be," Rafael says in agreement.

Amanda leaves the room, slamming the door behind her. Sonny looks at it and rolls his eyes. "Every time," he mutters.

Amanda walks into Liv's office while Sonny and Michaelson each take a manly drink of their black coffees. "Did you hear about the puns?" she asks.

"I did," Rafael replies. "Sonny blamed you."

"Oh, fuck him," she says.

"Jesse on Friday?"

"Already booked a sitter," Amanda says, "but if nothing happens to make me work Saturday, that'd be great."

"Done. I assume we'll have Frannie?"

"I'm not sure. Dog-time might be good for me. I'll let you know."

"Sure," Rafael agrees, and he and Liv move to one side so Amanda can observe the interrogation alongside them. "Fin?" Rafael asks as Sonny and Michaelson take another manly sip of their coffees.

"Note on his desk said that he's done his part and wants grandkid time," Amanda says with a smile. "He hasn't seen Jaden in a month, and Michaelson is way more clever in his own head than real life."

"True," Rafael and Liv say at the same time. Amanda laughs in agreement.

In the interview room, Sonny and Michaelson take another drink of their coffees.

"The coffee here is shit," Michaelson says, pulling a face.

"My first disappointment after going into the NYPD is that the coffee isn't as strong as I was promised," Sonny replies, looking into his cup like it's disappointing him.

"That's from the espresso machine," Amanda says, and she, Liv, and Rafael, share a chuckle. 

"Because you're a manly man, right?" Michaelson says, clearly trying to start a fight. 

Sonny barks a hard laugh that isn't his at all. "Fuck that. I'm _Italian_. My _Nonna_ handed me my first coffee when I was six."

"Bullshit," Rafael says. "His _Nonna_ refused to give him caffeine until he was twelve because he was so wound up naturally."

"My _Nonna_ tasted this," Sonny says, "she'd slap it backwards out of its chair for the insult it is." 

"It's weak as hell," Michaelson agrees.

"Cops think they're so fucking tough..." Sonny says with distaste. He glances at Michaelson, then shakes his head. "Nevermind. This isn't why I'm here."

"You're here to get a confession," Michaelson says, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I know what you're about," and his tone carries his sneer without anyone in Liv's office looking at the camera feed to see it.

Sonny laughs and stretches his arms, the double-flower tattoo flashing again. "Yeah. Of course. You're not dumb. You know why we were after you." He relaxes and glances at his coffee. When he takes a drink this time, he grimaces.

"What's the tattoo?" Michaelson asks, waving a hand at Sonny's bicep. 

"Yes," Liv and Rafael and Amanda say at the same time.

Sonny turns his arm so he can see his inner bicep. He looks at the tattoo for a moment, then laughs. "I keep forgetting it's there," he says to Michaelson. "I got it for an ex."

"An ex," Liv and Amanda say in deadpan unison.

"Fuck you both," Rafael replies, lightly. 

"I had this babe," Sonny says to Michaelson, shifting his bicep back and forth in the light like he's looking at it, "and I thought I hit the jackpot. Funny. Smart. A lawyer. But…" Sonny shrugs and tucks his arm down so the tattoo doesn't show anymore. "I'm just some fuck from Staten Island, apparently."

"She left you?" Michaelson asks.

"Yeah," Sonny replies, pulling his mouth hard to one side. "One day, I've got this hot piece with all the qualities you could ask for in someone to fuck--"

"Flattering," Rafael mutters and can't help but laugh when Liv and Amanda start to chuckle.

"And then," Sonny holds up both middle fingers and lifts his arms to the ceiling, "I'm out. Because I thought I was this great fucking guy who cooked dinner once a week, and it turns out I'm just some rando cop asshole, and this lawyer babe could do better."

Rafael, Liv, and Amanda scoff in unison at the idea that Sonny only cooks once a week.

"What's the flowers mean?" Michaelson asks. 

Sonny rolls his eyes hard. "Look, you can't laugh, okay? It's fucking cheesy."

"Sure," Michaelson agrees.

"So, in Italy, the rose is pretty much considered the national flower, and in Cuba, it's this thing called the Mariposa. I got 'em both to show that we were a unit, right?"

"And she didn't appreciate it," Michaelson says, playing right into Sonny's character.

Rafael has to clench his hands so he doesn't say anything. He knows Liv and Amanda know the importance of Sonny's tattoo to him. They know he's got the same one on his own inner bicep. He respects Sonny using the tattoo as a way to get under this guy's skin, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

"No appreciation at all," Sonny says with a straight face. He leans back in his chair and opens his legs. The draping of his sweats shift and settles in his crotch. 

"Wow," Liv says. "You don't see that in his suits."

"Good lord," Amanda whispers. "No wonder he never closes his damn legs."

"Why is he not wearing underwear?" Rafael asks.

"I'm more concerned how you fit that thing in your mouth."

"Rollins!" Liv says, though she says it through a laugh. 

Rafael doesn't answer. He watches Sonny sigh deeply and stick his arms back behind his head. Michaelson leans in a little, the way his head tilts, Rafael is certain Michaelson has also noticed that Sonny's dick is outlined through his sweats. 

"She left you?" Michaelson asks.

"Not right away," Sonny says, bitterness creeping into his tone. "Nah, she used me for my dick for awhile. Told me when she left she was hoping the sex would make up for my 'deficiencies.'"

"What a bitch," Michaelson mutters.

Sonny shakes his head. "Yeah, the whole thing was a mess." He looks at the ceiling and sighs. "Two fucking years of my life, right?"

"That's my cue," Amanda says and walks out of the office.

She walks into interrogation a moment later and crosses her arms. "Lieu wants to see you," she says to Sonny. 

"Be there in a minute," Sonny replies. 

"She wants to see you _now_ ," Amanda replies, sharpening her tone. 

"For fuck's sake, Amanda, I'm working."

"Really? Looks like you're shooting the shit to me." 

Sonny makes a disgruntled noise as he stands up. "Fine. I'm coming."

Amanda turns and walks out, door slamming behind her again.

"Back in a few," Sonny says to Michaelson. "You all right? Need a snack?"

"I'm good," Michaelson replies, leaning back in his chair. "Good luck with whatever shit's about to happen."

Sonny snorts. "Right?" He leaves the room. 

He and Amanda walk into Liv's office a moment later. "Gonna let him sit a few minutes," he says to Liv and Rafael, "go back in like I just got reamed by my female boss."

"Oh, I don't think you're the one who has to worry about that," Amanda says. 

Liv doesn't scold this time, just bites back a grin. Rafael rolls his eyes when Sonny gives Amanda a confused look.

"Huh?" Sonny asks.

"Nothing," Amanda says lightly. 

Rafael knows he's the only one who can ask, so he does. "Was it really necessary to flash your dick outline at this guy?"

Sonny shrugs. "Last-minute decision. I took my underwear off before I went in. He's all about toxic masculinity and big dick energy and that bullshit, so I figured he might take it as a sign I'm one of the boys."

"Looked like at least enough in there for two boys to me," Amanda says. 

Sonny shakes his head. "All right. I get it. You know what my dick looks like."

"I'm just saying, maybe warn a girl, huh?"

"Fine, the next time I think it might be beneficial to an interrogation to flash my junk in some manner, I'll send a note."

"That's all I ask."

"Okay, you two, the comedy bit is great, but I want you back in there, Carisi, and I want you to grab an ice pack before you go in," Liv says, drawing their attention. "Your female boss is threatening to make you wear makeup in court in two days to hide that shiner."

"Love it," Sonny says. He tosses Rafael a quick, sweet grin, and then he's out the door again. 

"Okay, but really, how do you fit that thing in your mouth?" Amanda asks.

Rafael smirks, letting the absurdity of the situation take over for a moment. "Just like getting to Carnegie Hall, Detective. Practice."

"I am done hearing or having any discussions about this," Liv says. "Let's focus."

"I was focusing," Amanda says, and Rafael can't stop his snicker. 

*

It's another hour of talking the toxic masculinity talk with Michaelson finally says, "Look, I know I'm here because of those females."

Sonny, leaned back in his chair, now-warm ice pack leaving a small puddle on the table, says, "Yeah. They made some claims."

"It's such bullshit," Michaelson says. "The way a female can just say anything, and it's taken as fact."

Sonny gives a sympathetic nod while curling his toes in his shoes to work off some of the urge to go off on this guy. "A bunch of 'em got together on this one, but man, we've been shooting the shit for awhile, and you're a good guy. I gotta tell you, this has felt like a set-up to me from the word go."

Michaelson's face brightens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, look, I get that I work sex crimes, all right, but just because it's reported doesn't make it true." Sonny says. "We get false reports." He stretches his toes this time, needing to work out the tension about how much he hates having to use this particular tactic. But Michaelson's nodding and looking interested in a deeper way than before. It's working. 

"I've read about false reports. It's fucking bogus. This messageboard I visit sometimes, it's just dudes talking about getting lied about, you know?"

Sonny does know the messageboard. It was the first thing they found when they looked up Michaelson's internet history. It's a pit of rape apologists at best and rapists like Michaelson at worst. Sonny wishes he could find the servers for the damn thing and burn them to the ground.

"That's what pisses me off about this so much," Michaelson says, "Like, I take these bitches to dinner. I _pay_. I compliment them, and then they wanna have fun, but then their bitch friends tell them the next day that _I_ did something, and once one of them gets going, they can get a bunch of bitches to say the same."

Sonny leans forward, pointing at Michaelson. "I know exactly what you're talking about. These guys just trying to be good guys--"

"Yeah!"

"--and then they get dragged through the mud and don't get to explain--"

"Right?!"

"But hey," Sonny taps the table twice. "I'm here right now, and I'm listening, man. Talk me through it."

Michaelson opens his mouth, then shuts it quickly. "Look, I don't doubt you, but you're still a cop, and maybe I should call my lawyer?"

Sonny nods, keeping his body relaxed. He needs to play this carefully. Michaelson hasn't demanded an attorney, which means Sonny doesn't have to stop talking to him, but it's a fine line he's walking. "Totally understand. I'll even make the call for you if you have your guy's name, but before I do, I wanna make sure whoever you get in here is actually on your side and understands how to help you out." He watches Michaelson think and has to forcibly keep himself still while he waits for the man to say something. 

"The only lawyer I trust is my dad's, but he's on vacation, and the firm doesn't do criminal law. I need a criminal attorney right?"

"Yeah."

Michaelson thinks again. "What happens if I talk to you without one? Like, just explain it to you like you said?"

"I'll listen, and I'll make sure you get to write your statement in your own words." 

Michaelson nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's better."

Sonny nods and takes a deep breath, this next part is the trickiest of this play. "Cool, man. I'm for it. But here's the thing, you gotta sign a consent form that says I didn't refuse to let you see a lawyer. Right to remain silent and all that."

Michaelson waves him off. "Yeah. Sure. You got one on you?"

"Nah, I gotta hop out for a second. I'll get the statement forms, too." Sonny stands. "More coffee? Snack?I can send someone to get you a soda or something."

"Take a coke," Michaelson says.

"All right. I'll get someone to grab that. Be back in a second."

Sonny walks out of the interview room, and Amanda's already walking down the hall to the soda stash. "Get a warm one," Sonny whispers in passing.

"My thoughts exactly," Amanda says, cutting him a grin as she passes by.

Sonny gets a consent form, statement forms, and a pen from his desk and nods when Liv gives him a thumbs-up from where she's still watching the interview room from her office. Rafael isn't looking at him, staring into the room like he could spontaneously combust Michaelson with this thoughts alone. Sonny lets himself smile for a moment as he walks back to the interview room. He pauses five feet from it, Amanda coming from the other end of the hall. She waggles her eyebrows before shaking the soda can a few times before going into the room. Sonny listens to her thump the can down, and then she leaves, the door slamming. She pats Sonny once on the chest and goes back into Liv's office. 

Sonny listens through the door. It's a few seconds before Michaelson pops the can. He swears, and Sonny grins, making a note to high-five Amanda for that little bit of sabotage. Sonny counts to thirty, then walks in the room. "Okay, hey--" He stops short at the puddle of soda on the table. "Oh, man? What happened?"

"I think that girl who keeps coming in shook it," Michaelson says, glaring down at the soda splashed on his shirt. "My favorite fucking shirt, too."

"That's so uncool. Look, here's the consent form. The statement forms are under it. You gotta read the consent one out loud so we can prove you can understand it. Here's a pen, and I'm gonna grab some paper towels for you." 

"No problem, man. I got your back on this." Michaelson says then starts reading aloud as Sonny steps out of the room again. 

"Here," Liv says in a whisper to Sonny's right. She's holding out a new roll of paper towels still in their wrapping. "You're doing great, Carisi."

"Thanks," Sonny says, taking the towels. "I wanna get back in there before he signs." He ducks back inside at Liv's nod. Michaelson is still reading aloud. He looks at Sonny but doesn't break off. Sonny takes the wrapping of the towels as quietly as possible and pulls a few sheets off just as Michaelson signs. 

"Thanks," Michaelson says when Sonny holds out the paper towels. He dabs at his shirt while Sonny cleans up the small puddle of soda on the table. "So, how does the statement form work?"

"Fill out the top and just write what happened in the blank space. If you run out of space, I can get you more forms."

"Cool." Michaelson takes the top sheet off the stack and starts to fill it out. 

Sonny sits and stretches his hands over his knees. Hard part's over. Michaelson's about to dig his own grave for their benefit. 

*

"Jesus fucking Christ," Rafael mutters when he watches Michaelson sign the consent form. 

"You all right?" Amanda asks. "You need a minute?"

"Rafa, I know you'd rather him be a lawyer so he's not staring down violent perps quite so often, but I appreciate you not fighting him on it," Liv says. 

"How can I?" Rafael replies. "Do you know how many DAs I have on my ass about having a detective on squad who can turn around an almost-request on a lawyer like that?"

"They had their chance," Amanda says, the bitter note in her voice layered with protectiveness. "Their fucking loss."

"Damn right," Liv agrees. 

Rafael shakes his head and turns from the window. "You know what, Rollins? I do need a minute." He doesn't care that Amanda's laugh follows him as he leaves Liv's office. 

*

It takes Michaelson ninety minutes to write up his statement. He pauses several times to talk out his logic with Sonny. Sonny nods along and doesn't offer any advice. When Michaelson is finished, Sonny takes his pages, asks him to wait a minute, and then he carries the stack into Liv's office.

"From what he said to you while writing that thing we've caught him in three lies we can prove," Liv says when Sonny walks in.

"I'm sure there's plenty more," Sonny says, waving the stack of paper at her. "Gimme a few, and I can--"

"You can go home," Liv interrupts. "We had enough to arrest him in the first place. Rollins can get him processed while you head out."

"It's not--"

"Shaddup," Rollins says. "Putting this guy into a cell would be a _delight_. Let me have this."

Sonny glances at Rafael. "And your opinion, counselor?"

"I can't say my opinion in front of mixed company," Rafael replies, keeping a straight face when Amanda and Liv laugh. "So, I'm just going to recommend you don't argue with your commanding officer."

Sonny can't help the smile that breaks across his face. He knows everyone in the room knows he was just playing a character, but the praise for his work and their easy acceptance that he's really not just some gross misogynist who thought Michaelson made a valid point helps him relax for the first time since he walked into the interview room. "All right," he says. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the boss."

"It was great work, Carisi," Liv says, taking the statement from him.

"Amanda helped," Sonny replies.

Amanda rolls her eyes and flips him off. "Bitchy blonde white woman is not the same stretch for me as what you did in there. Take the fucking compliment."

"What she said," Liv says with a grin.

"Let's go," Rafael says to Sonny, stepping forward and touching his hand. "He can stew in holding for the rest of the night. You need to rest."

Sonny yawns before he can argue, and he lets Rafael lead him from Liv's office after they've both said a quiet good night. They ride down to the first floor in a comfortable quiet only broken by Rafael's phone beeping as he calls them a Lyft.

"Beverly in a gold Durango will be here in three minutes," Rafael says as they step off the elevator. 

"Good," Sonny replies. He and Rafael walk out the front door of the station and down the stairs. They stand side-by-side on the sidewalk. Sonny yawns again, harder and longer than before. "Sorry."

"That was hard work," Rafael says. "You can be tired."

Sonny turns towards Rafael and presses a kiss to his hair. "You didn't have to stay for the whole show."

"After you flashed your dick outline, I was hoping for more." Rafael chuckles quietly when Sonny groans into his hair.

"It was a tactic, and it worked."

"No one's questioning that it worked," Rafael replies. "But I fear the number of dick jokes I'll be hearing from Amanda for the rest of my life."

Sonny groans and laughs at the same time. "Was it really that bad?"

"I'm just asking that you don't flash that thing at our Lyft driver. I'd rather get home in one piece."

"Keep this up, you won't be enjoying more than my dick outline for awhile."

Rafael laughs. "Please, like you could ever resist me." 

The Lyft pulls to the curb, and Rafael pauses before approaching because Sonny's pressing another kiss into his hair. 

"Love you," he murmurs as he nuzzles Rafael's scalp. 

"Love you, too," Rafael replies, and then leads Sonny by the hand into the car.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be a casefic. This was supposed to be about Sonny having a big dick, but hey, the words do what they do, and I just roll with. Anyway, hope you liked it.


End file.
